There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief … And unspeakable love …
Washington Irving

After the death of a beloved, there is no avoiding the overwhelming grief or the tears. In the immediate aftermath, we may be in shock, feel numb or even be in denial about the loss. Although everyone’s timetable is different, eventually we have to acknowledge the loss and how devastated we are. No matter how painful, we must sit with our grief and all that we’ve lost in order to start healing.

a close up image of a piece of paper with handwriting all over it

At Salt Water, we can help you learn to live with an unbearable loss. We offer ideas, strategies, tools and most importantly, hope that you can survive the death of someone you didn’t think you could live without.

We invite you to become part of our community. Share your story, ask a question, make a comment. We’d love to hear from you.

Never miss an article or podcast! Subscribe here to be notified whenever new content is posted to Salt Water.

At A Loss For Words

I want a word that means okay and not okay, a word that means devastated and stunned with joy. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Orange, white roses

On My Birthday

B. J. Jewett spent her career working with children and families, as a registered nurse and, later, as an educator. She is the author of a children’s book Letter Trees. Her second book, You Don’t Fall Out of the Universe was written in response to the loss of her adult son.

Man walking in front of a wall full of graffiti with the word courage written in pink block letters

The Door Is Unlocked

Courage is what love looks like when tested by the simple everyday necessities of being alive. David Whyte

Path in redwood tree forest with ferns on both sides and greenery in front


Paula Wychopen, a seeker of beauty in the everyday, is a writer, mother, widow, and former caregiver for her chronically ill husband, Forrest. The eighteen years she cared for her husband at home were the most difficult and blessed years of her life

Single black car driving on two lane road. To the right is grass, a fence and up ahead a bright green hill. The sky is cloudy

A How-To for Desperate Times

Casey Mulligan Walsh is an upstate New York writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times, Split Lip, HuffPost, Next Avenue, The Manifest-Station, Barren Magazine, BrevityBlog, and Modern Loss, among others. She writes about life at the intersection of grief and joy and embracing the in-between.

Jimmy in Austin in 2008 after high dose chemo receiving a yellow rose. He's wearing an orange Mellow Johnny's t-shirt, a race bib with the number 28 on it. He's bald. Behind him are photographers, a volunteer in a yellow LIVESTRONG shirt and photographers

A Data Set Of One

When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. Dr. Theodore Woodward

error: Our content is protected.